


The Universe Begins With Her

by duchessofthemoonbase



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Christmas, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Whouffaldi First Kiss Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofthemoonbase/pseuds/duchessofthemoonbase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victorian Clara tries to seduce the Doctor, and Clara is not very happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Universe Begins With Her

“So.” The Doctor said, putting on his red velvet coat with a flourish. “I thought today we’d celebrate Christmas.”

Clara laughed. “Doctor, you do know Christmas was last week, right?”

“Yes, but being attacked by alien dream crabs while being constantly one-upped by Santa Claus doesn’t really count as a proper celebration, in my opinion.”

“Alright then,” Clara said, smiling as she wrapped a knitted white scarf over her dark green sweater dress. “Where we off to?”

“Victorian London. 1890. Classic.” The Doctor said, smirking as he fiddled with the levers. He knew there was a chance they could run into…well…the other Clara, but he assumed aiming for two years earlier would keep them from an embarrassing run in. No version of Clara liked to stay in one place for long, he figured.

Clara was about to dash out the door, and then stopped. “Wait, I should change into my Victorian dress, shouldn’t I?”

“No! Just leave it,” the Doctor said, waving his hand. “That dress looks especially lovely on you.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “Really? It doesn’t make me look, I don’t know, _roundish_ , or anything?”

“Well yes, roundish, but in a good way.”

Clara rolled her eyes and smiled. Something had changed after Christmas; she could feel it. He had taken her hand, she had kissed his cheek, and they had run away together with a still silent understanding that it would always be the two of them against the world. But still, Clara wanted to say the words out loud, wanted to finally be able to hold him. They would get there. Slowly, but they would.

Clara stepped out of the Tardis onto a snow-covered road, filled with shops and old Georgian townhouses. People filled the streets, finishing up their errands for the evening or buying roasted chestnuts. The windows were adorned with holly and candles, and the sound of carolers echoed from down the street.

“So…” the Doctor said, looking at her nervously. “Do you like it?”

Clara laughed and grabbed his hand. “I love it. Come on, let’s go.”

The Doctor and Clara made their way down the street, and Clara could feel herself beaming from the inside out, finding comfort in her hand wrapped around the Doctor’s, in the way he didn’t flinch away from her anymore. She kept catching him staring at her as she marveled at the London streets. Perhaps he was as in love with her as she was with him. Maybe today, she would finally be ready to let herself believe it.

As they turned the corner, the smell of pot roast, potatoes, and carrots wafted down the street.

“That smells amazing, I’m starving.” Clara said, pointing at a sign that read, _The Rose and Crown._ “I think it’s coming from in there. Let’s go.”

The Doctor panicked for a moment. “No! Um, I mean, let’s not go there, I hear its rubbish. I know this other place, uh, uh…” Clara looked at him questioningly. “Mancinis! That’s it! Let’s go there!”

“You mean the restaurant from our first date where we nearly got sliced up by clockwork droids? No thanks.” Clara ignored the Doctor and pushed open the door.

Clara smiled as she stood in the entrance of the restaurant, marveling at the Christmas decorations and the, well, the pure _Victorian-ness_ of it all.

“Table for two please.” The Doctor said to the man at the front.

“Can I have your name please? Mr. and Mrs….”

“Doctor.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Alright Mr. and Mrs. Doctor, right this way please.” Clara smirked with delight as they were led to a cozy table in a quiet corner near the fireplace. She couldn’t remember feeling this level of holiday magic and warmth since she was a child, since she was a girl asking for science kits from Santa Claus.

Whatever the Doctor’s initial reluctance at her choice of restaurant faded away as a waiter brought them steaming plates of tender pot roast and vegetables. They talked through the meal, reminiscing about Akhaten and Robin Hood. Clara loved a dangerous adventure, but she loved this just as much. Just the two of them talking, at peace and glowing with gratitude for the things they had gotten to see.

Clara turned towards the bar and saw the bartender beginning to serve up mugs of eggnog. “I’m going to go fetch us some,” Clara said, hopping up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

The Doctor gave her a thumbs up and watched her go up to the bar, continuing to pick at his potatoes.

Clara waited for the bartender to get to her order when she saw a flash of a scarlet red skirt that gave her a strange sense of Déjà vu. _No_ , she thought. _It couldn’t be._

It was. The woman was exactly identical, making her way around the tables, picking up used glasses and wiping the tables down. She seemed a little too happy, a bit dizzy, and Clara wondered if she had gotten a bit drunk. The Doctor had said he had met a version of her in Victorian London. Was this her?

Clara watched as the Victorian woman began to approach the Doctor’s table. Oh no, oh no, _oh no_. Clara found a pillar near the table and positioned herself behind it, close enough to see and hear, but invisible from the table. She held her breath, watching as the Victorian woman approached him.

“Hello sir,” she practically slurred. “How are you this evening?”

The Doctor practically jumped out of his seat when he realized who it was.

“You really need to leave.” The Doctor said. “My friend is coming back and…”

Clara’s eyes widened in shock as the other Clara slid down on the bench next to the Doctor until she was practically sitting in his lap, pulling down the bodice of her dress with one hand to reveal more of her skin.

“I’ve had _far_ too much eggnog tonight.” She whispered in his ear, stroking the velvet lapels of his jackets. “ _Far_ too much.” She giggled. The Doctor was blushing, his eyes widening like saucers.

Clara remained frozen behind the pillar, beginning to feel invasive. And maybe, she let herself admit, a little bit aroused by the whole thing.

Victorian Clara snuggled closer to the Doctor, running her hands over his waistcoat. “Where do you live, sir? Perhaps you could take me home with you for Christmas. My bed above the pub here is so terribly cold…and so very lonely.” She began kissing his neck, and the Doctor released a tiny moan.

“You know,” The Doctor said, awkwardly pushing away from her, “My friend will be back any second, and it’s going to be extremely awkward if…”

“Fine,” Victorian Clara said, running her hands through his silver curls, “But not before I do this-” She tilted her head and began to lean in.

“No!” Clara shouted, suddenly jumping out from behind the pillar, causing the entire restaurant to stare. “You can’t kiss him before I do, it’s…it’s…it’s unfair!”

The Doctor turned an even deeper shade of crimson as Victorian Clara stared at Clara with wide eyes. “Blimey, miss, you look like…exactly like…well, I don’t believe it I mean, how can…”

The Doctor looked up at Clara and grabbed her hand. “I told you this restaurant was a bad idea. We need to go, _now_.”

The Doctor pulled her out of the restaurant, dragging her into a nearby hackney cab and instructing the driver to take them back to the Tardis.

“Okay. She was very drunk. Hopefully, probably, she’ll either completely forget she saw you or think it was just a result of the alcohol. But just to be safe, we’re getting out of here.” The Doctor said. “Now.”

Clara wrapped herself underneath the blanket lying in the back of the cab. “Was that the me you met earlier?”

The Doctor nodded. “But two years later, in 1892. It’s 1890.”

“I see…” Clara said. “And last time was she that…um…”

The Doctor smirked. “Last time I met her, she cornered me in a hallway and snogged my face off.”

“She _what_?”

“That was bowtie me, of course.”

“Was she a good kisser?”

The Doctor grinned. “Phenomenal.” Clara rolled her eyes.

There was a silence.

“Sorry, Clara, are you upset about something?”

Clara crossed her arms and looked up at him crossly. “Oh, no, of course not. I’m just feeling a little bit disgusted.”

“Disgusted?”

“Watching you get all handsy with that Victorian barmaid. By god, was she desperate, she could hardly keep herself off you.”

The Doctor smiled. “If I didn’t know better Clara, I’d say you were jealous.”

“I am not!”

“You can’t lie your way out of this one, Clara, you leaped out from behind that pillar to stop her from kissing me.”

“Well I-”

“And then you said, ‘You can’t kiss him before I do,’ if I’m recalling correctly.”

Clara sighed. “For god’s sake Doctor, what is your point?”

They stared at each other, scared to say anything.

“Stop the cab!” The Doctor yelled to the driver. “We’re back at the Tardis.”

The almost admission of feelings had been halted once again. Clara decided then and there that it would be the last time.

“Doctor,” she said as she followed him through the snow into the console room, “I need you to take me somewhere.”

“Where?”

“The beginning of the universe.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Well, alright then.” He pulled a few levers, the ship groaned, and soon the monitors showed that they were at the beginning of time itself, the moment a split second after the Big Bang had started to begin.

The Doctor and Clara climbed up to the roof of the Tardis, letting their legs swing out from under them. They were watching time and space, the medium they had always and would always work in; create itself, exploding and expanding out into the nothingness in bursts of brilliant color.

“Why did you want to come here, Clara?” the Doctor asked, looking down at her.

“To do this,” she whispered.

Clara brought her hand to his cheek and pulled him in, kissing him gently at first, and then deepening it when she felt his hand grip her waist. _He’s touching me back,_ Clara kept thinking. _He wants this as much as I do._ She could feel the passion running through her veins, her heart exploding in her chest.

They broke away and smiled at each other like giddy children. _Finally, finally._

“So…why did you have to come _here_ to kiss me?” the Doctor asked.

“Well,” Clara said, staring out at the expanse in front of them. “It’s the earliest moment of time. And I wanted to kiss you first. And now no Victorian barmaid can take that away from me.”

“Clara Oswald, the romantic control freak.”

Clara grinned. “Now kiss me again, you daft old man.”

And he did.

And he stayed there, watching his whole Universe come into being.

And the Big Bang, too.


End file.
